


Yours To Hold

by Brumeier



Series: Bite Sized Fic [94]
Category: The Sentinel
Genre: 5 Times, Destiny, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Meetings, M/M, Prompt Fill, Sentinel Senses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-23 21:24:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7480689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brumeier/pseuds/Brumeier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>LJ Comment Fic for Five Things/Times prompt: <i>any, any, the five times they missed meeting each other and the one time they did meet.</i></p><p>In which the universe brings Jim and Blair together five times before it happens for real.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yours To Hold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smiles2go](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smiles2go/gifts).



_You will see someday_  
_That all along the way_  
_I was yours to hold_

**1969 – San Diego, CA**

Jimmy hated the hospital. Dad had dragged him there every day for a week and there was nothing to do but sit in Grandpa’s room and talk. Stevie was only four, so he got to stay with Aunt Mary and go in the pool and have fun. It wasn’t fair. Dad said he wanted Jimmy to get to know his Grandpa better, before it was too late, but he already knew everything that was important – Grandpa kept Oreo cookies in the pantry closet, he let Jimmy stay up late to watch Johnny Carson on TV, and he never yelled.

It wasn’t like Grandpa could do much talking anyway. He was really sick, and Dad said he was going to die. Jimmy was sad about that, because he loved his grandpa, but it didn’t seem fair to ask him to stay when he was in so much pain. And anyway, hearing Dad tell Grandpa’s stories wasn’t really the same.

When Grandpa was having a really bad time, Dad would send him out of the room with some money for the vending machines. Jimmy had explored the long-term care wing pretty thoroughly, but today, when Grandpa sounded like he was choking to death and Jimmy was scared, he headed upstairs to see the babies. He wasn’t supposed to use the elevator without Dad, but he was seven and he doubted his father would miss him for a while.

There was only one baby in the nursery, and Jimmy stared at him with curiosity. He knew it was a boy because he was wrapped in a blue blanket. He seemed awfully small, smaller than Stevie had been when Mom and Dad brought him home from the hospital. Jimmy’s special senses, which he’d kept stuffed down all week because he couldn’t stand the smell of sickness in Grandpa’s room, or hearing the way his breath rattled in his chest, opened back up again.

Jimmy could read the sign on the bassinette, which said Baby Boy Trent and listed his weight and height, but he wasn’t sure if that meant his first name was Trent or his last name was. The baby had a very pink face, and lots more hair than Stevie’d had. Jimmy listened for the baby’s heart-beat, which was fast but strong. It sounded nice, like he could just keep listening to it forever. And then he heard a conversation from further down the hall.

“…keep him.”

“Don’t be foolish. You can’t take care of a child. You’re still a child yourself.”

“I won’t give him away.”

The one Jimmy assumed was the mom sounded really young, like Jimmy’s babysitter Angela. She’d just got her driver’s license.

“We won’t support this decision, Naomi.”

“I can do it on my own.”

The girl started to cry, and Jimmy stopped listening. He wasn’t supposed to eavesdrop like that anyway.

He looked back at the little baby, sleeping and unaware. He wondered what kind of life Baby Boy Trent would have, what he might be when he grew up.

“Good luck, little guy,” Jimmy whispered through the window.

*o*o*o*

**1975 – Cozumel, Mexico**

Jimmy was stretched out on a towel, soaking up the sun and listening to the rhythmic sound of the waves on the shore. He knew he was lucky to be there – it was Dad’s business trip but Mom hadn’t been able to take him and Stevie for the week – and he wasn’t going to waste one second of it. While his dad was stuck inside for boring meetings, Jim and Stevie were practically living on the beach.

Stevie had found some kids his age to play with, which kept him out of Jimmy’s hair for a while. And it wasn’t like he could lose his little brother, not with his super hearing keeping track for him.

There’d been a group of girls on the beach earlier that had been giving Jimmy the eye, and he hadn’t minded eyeing them right back. Long legs, string bikinis…it really was paradise. And maybe he’d very casually looked at a couple of guys, too, because their tiny swimsuits left very little to the imagination. And Jimmy had a pretty good imagination.

He was thinking he might head to the tiki bar for a virgin daiquiri when something caught his attention. He sat up, glad for the sunglasses that kept the reflections off the water from stabbing into his vision, and looked around. For what, he didn’t know.

There were a lot of people on the beach. Tourists, natives, fat guys, women sunbathing topless, kids playing in the sand…and one kid right at the edge of the water, totally naked. He was little, younger than Stevie for sure, and he had the kind of all-over tan that meant he wasn’t much for wearing clothes. 

Jimmy didn’t know why, but there was something about that kid that held his attention. His hair was really curly, and he had a huge smile on his face that Jimmy could see every time he spun around. And he did a lot of spinning, arms out and feet in the water. He felt pervy, watching like that, and wished the kid’s mom would make him put a bathing suit on at least.

Just then a tall, red-headed woman wearing a sarong and a bright blue bikini scooped the boy up. Jimmy could hear their mingled laughter, and he felt a quick flash of jealousy. His mom was nothing like that, had never sounded so happy and carefree. She couldn’t even be bothered to spend a few days with her sons.

“Hey, Jimmy!” Stevie ran up, his legs covered in sand. “They’re going to get ice cream. Can I go too? Please?”

“Yeah, sure.” Jimmy got up and shook out his towel, rolling it up to carry under one arm. He glanced back at the shoreline, but the boy and his mom were gone.

*o*o*o*

**1980 – Cascade, WA**

Jim sat on a bench in the park, across the street from Army recruitment center. He was working up the courage to go inside. He’d be eighteen in a couple of months, and lately he’d been feeling the need to do something important with his life. And not the same kind of important his father had in mind; Jim didn’t want to work in a stuffy office and wear a three-piece suit for the rest of his life.

The Army, though. He’d be able to travel, and get specialized training. And they’d pay for college, too. Jim was old enough to know that he wanted to build something for himself, something that was just his and didn’t trade on the Ellison name. He wanted to make a difference.

Two kids zipped past him on skateboards, jarring him out of his train of thought. He thought one was a girl, because of the long, curly hair, but the curses that came out of the kid’s mouth when he tried to do some fancy kick flip thing and crashed into the light post were in a decidedly masculine voice.

“Oh, man!” The other kid, who had spiky blonde hair, laughed. “Wipe out!”

“Man, that sucked.” Curly limped over to retrieve his board, and he had blood trickling down from a gash on his knee. “My mom’s gonna flip out when she sees this.”

“You guys should be more careful!” Jim called out, not knowing why he even cared. Or why he was trying to get a closer look at Curly’s face.

“Can’t be careful on a skateboard, man,” Blondie replied. He and Curly did some kind of complicated high five thing, and then dissolved into laughter. 

They left the park, Curly carrying his board under his arm. Jim watched them go, then turned his gaze back on the American flag that was flying out in front of the recruitment office. His father would be pissed. Military service wasn’t part of the Ellison family plan. But Jim was pretty sure he’d never be the person his father wanted him to be, no matter what he did.

Taking a deep breath, he got up from the bench and headed across the street. Time to start making things happen for himself.

*o*o*o*

**1988 – The Jungles of Peru**

Jim was high up in the kapok tree, his eyes scanning the canopy. There was smoke from a small fire, about five miles to the east. He cocked his head to listen, and heard several people talking. White men. 

“I told you not to touch it.”

“I didn’t think it would be so spiny.”

“Well, newbie, welcome to the jungle.”

There was laughter, and the sound of eating. Jim lifted his head and sniffed, nostrils widening to pull in as much scent data as possible. There was a hint of gun oil, which indicated one, maybe two weapons. Small caliber. And some of the voices sounded very young. They didn’t register as threats.

One of the voices, though. It sounded familiar. And the heartbeat – rhythmic and regular and sweeter than any birdsong Jim had ever heard. He skirted along the edge of a blackout, just listening to it, and then Incacha was there, at the base of the tree, and his familiar presence shook Jim out of his stupor.

He climbed down, dropping the last several feet, and greeted his Shaman in the proper manner.

“There is trouble, Enqueri?” Incacha asked. The Chopec dialect had become a second language for Jim, one that rolled off his tongue as easily as English.

“No trouble, Shaman. A group of travelers to the east. I sense no danger.”

Incacha nodded. “More of the university men, perhaps. They come regularly.”

“Do you wish me to keep watch?”

“You need to rest, Enqueri. Come, it is time for the evening meal.”

Jim and Incacha walked back to the village in companionable silence. Jim thought about that heartbeat, and the deep-voiced man it belonged to. It meant something, he was sure of it, but he didn’t ask Incacha. The Shaman was counting on him to protect the village, until his own people came back for him, and that’s what he would do. He was Chopec.

Still, he returned to the kapok tree that night, the darkness no hindrance to him, and he listened to the men tell stories and sing songs, and he almost remembered a boy on a beach. And a home away from the jungle.

*o*o*o*

**1990 – Cascade, WA**

Jim was pretty damn happy to finally be part of Cascade PD. But he hated the uniform that all the patrol cops had to wear. Just another reason to keep practicing for the detective’s exam; plain clothes were definitely more his style. Somehow it suited Candace, though. His partner looked formidable in her uniform.

They were working the night shift, which was generally pretty quiet. But a call had come in for them to check out a drunk and disorderly on Maple, so Candace hit the lights. Jim might’ve been nearing thirty, but the siren and being able to run the red lights still gave him a thrill.

There was an altercation outside of Club Doom, one of those dance clubs where the music was too loud, the drinks too expensive, and the clientele too young and hip. Not Jim’s kind of place.

The bouncer, a big guy with a shaved head and tattoos on his neck had a shrimpy kid with curly hair in a headlock. The kid, who was maybe in his early twenties, maybe younger, was putting up one heck of a fight but the bouncer was immoveable.

“CPD,” Candace said. “You want to let that man go?”

The bouncer released his hold and the kid went sprawling on his hands and knees.

“Now. What seems to be the problem?”

“Trish’s ‘n there!” the kid said, getting back to his feet. Jim thought it was a wonder he was able to get upright, as drunk as he sounded. And smelled.

“This guy and his friends got rowdy, and I escorted them out,” the bouncer said dryly. “This one keeps trying to get back in.”

“No, but Trish! Trish! Hey, Trish!”

The kid made to go around the bouncer, but Candace grabbed hold of his shoulder and reeled him back in.

“Sir, what’s your name?”

“’m Trish’s boyfren’.”

“Okay, Trish’s boyfriend. You got a first name?”

“Trish calls me Beary.”

Candace rolled her eyes, and Jim suppressed a grin. Kid was three sheets to the wind.

“Yeah, we’re not calling you that,” Jim said. “Do you live close by?”

“Campus,” he replied. He tipped his head back and looked at Jim. “’Lo, off’cer.”

There was a moment, there and gone in a flash, when Jim felt like he recognized the kid. Something in his face, maybe. Or his voice. Before he could put his finger on it, the feeling was gone.

“I checked his ID,” the bouncer said defensively. “He’s legal.”

“Tell you what,” Candace said. “I’m gonna take your word on that because I don’t feel like doing any extra paperwork on this.”

“Gotta get Trish. Trish!”

“She left an hour ago,” the bouncer reported. “With some other dude.”

“Tough break, Junior,” Jim said.

“Tha’s a lie!”

“Thank you for your help,” Candace told the bouncer. She frog-marched the kid down to the cruiser, and stuffed him in the back seat. “You throw up in my car, I’m gonna change my mind about being nice to you.”

The kid sniffled. “I love her, man.”

They got him back to Rainier and left him in the capable hands of campus security, who promised to get him back to his room.

“Another glamorous night in CPD,” Candace said as they headed back into the city.

“Not sure I can handle the excitement,” Jim replied.

He definitely needed to get off Patrol.

*o*o*o*

**1995 – Cascade, WA**

It all felt like it was ending: the life Jim had built for himself, his job, even his sanity. He waited in the exam room for the doctor, and at this point he didn’t have any hope that the man would have an answer for him. Jim had been to every specialist in Cascade, but no-one could tell him why his senses were all of whack, or how to stop it. He couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, could barely tolerate the touch of the clothes he was wearing.

Things had almost gotten dire enough for Jim to contact his father, for the first time in probably a decade, to ask if there was anything in the family medical history that would account for what he was going through.

And then everything stopped.

Jim’s fears, the low-level itch where his clothes touched his skin…it all fell away. It was like a blanket of calm draped over him. There was something else, too. A sound, like music. It was so familiar, and it filled him with an aching sense of longing like he’d never experienced.

The door opened, and though the man who stepped into the room was wearing a white lab coat, Jim could tell he was so much more than a doctor. He seemed to almost glow, from the inside out, and there was no part of him that wasn’t familiar, from the stubble along his strong jawline to the curly hair he had pulled back in a ponytail to the bright blue eyes that were studying him with interest.

Jim could hear his heartbeat, and it was like the echo of a long-forgotten melody.

“It’s you,” he said.

The guy blinked at him from behind big round glasses. “I’m sorry, have we met?”

“No. But…I know you.” In Jim’s mind he heard child-like laughter, smelled the verdant growth of the jungle, saw a bloody knee. He didn’t know what it meant, but something told him that the man standing in front of him would be the key to unlocking it all.

“I’m Dr. McCoy,” he said, and Jim could hear the lie. “No. No, I’m not. Sorry, that was a dumb idea. Let’s start over. I’m Blair Sandburg, and I’m here to help you.”

Sandburg held out his hand, and after a moment’s hesitation Jim shook it. That first touch was like an electric charge up his arm.

“Detective Jim Ellison,” he said. “And I could use some help.”

*o*o*o*

**Epilogue**

“Do you believe in destiny?” Jim asked.

Blair pulled off and rocked back on his heels, running the back of his hand over his mouth. “You seriously want to talk about this now?”

Jim looked down at him, at his Guide’s lips red and swollen, and the flush of desire on his face. And maybe the timing wasn’t great, what with his dick in the process of getting very skillfully sucked, but the question had been in his head a long time.

“Do you?”

And Blair, naked and sexy and sporting some serious wood of his own, looked thoughtful.

“Once upon a time I’d have said no. But look at us, man. Would we have gotten here otherwise?”

Jim pulled Blair up off the floor and kissed him, slow and easy, his taste and smell and touch so familiar to Jim now. He’d never told Blair, but he remembered every almost-meeting they’d ever had, thanks to the work Blair was doing in helping Jim regain all his repressed memories. He remembered that tiny newborn, and how even then he’d called out to Jim. So many near misses, and still they ended up together. Sentinel and Guide. Friends and lovers. Partners in every sense of the word.

He’d never put much stock into a divine plan for the universe, but in light of what he knew, he was willing to revise his stance on that.

“What’s gotten into you, big guy?” Blair asked. He wrapped his arms around Jim, head tipped back to look at him.

“I don’t know. Nothing.” Jim slid his hands down, grabbed a double handful of Blair’s ass. “Maybe I’d like to get into _you_.”

Blair laughed. “You’re not winning any awards with that line, pal.” But he writhed sinuously against Jim, and let Jim walk him backwards to the bed.

Blair had brought balance to Jim’s life, and a depth he’d been unknowingly searching for. He brought wit and intelligence and compassion. He grounded Jim, and at the same time helped him break free of the chains holding him back. Destiny, fate, or pure chance, Jim was nothing but grateful.

And he was more than ready to show Blair just how much.

**Author's Note:**

>  **AN:** My dear friend smiles2go asked for a fic along these lines so long ago, I don’t even want to try and calculate the passage of time. It’s always been something I wanted to write for her, and today it just happened out of the blue. A combination of the right prompt, an idea already in place, and finally feeling like I could write these boys after some pretty spectacular fails in the last couple of months, helped this fic be born.
> 
> Not gonna lie. Took some liberties with the timeline.
> 
> Special thanks to withasmile87 for the prompt!
> 
> Title from the song of the same name by Skillet.


End file.
